Visions of You
by Napoleonic
Summary: Jimmy had to sell their house, but Marissa had no idea someone actually bought it. Who are these newbies in Newport Beach? A slightly AU fic that takes place after Episode 7 of Season 2. See inside for supported 'ships. R & R.
1. Prologue

Author's Notes: Hello there and welcome to my first attempt at an O.C fan fiction. I warn you that it's not written in script form like a lot of them are, and the plot doesn't move as quickly as most that I've come across. That's just my style, I'm sorry if it's a little off of what you're used to.

The 'ships you can expect will be somewhat like the following: Ryan/Lindsay, Marissa/Original Character, Seth/Alex, Summer/Zach, Sandy/Kirsten, Caleb/Julie, Jimmy/Original Character and there will be some Marissa/Ryan & Summer/Seth sprinkled in here and there because I'm a sucker for the inevitable. :D

This story takes place in a slightly alternate universe that occurs after episode 7 of season two. The events following those episodes will not at all be mentioned in the fic, and have not taken place. The disclaimer is the usual: Josh Schwartz created these beings; I'm just having my way with them. Heh.

Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcome.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Visions of You**

_Prologue_

The fantasy had transformed itself into reality. That much he knew. It had only been a year and a few months ago that he was still in that other place, the "real" world as it was referred to. The place where mothers abandoned their children, where fathers were felons and brothers bred criminal intentions in the minds of their siblings. Honestly, lying amongst his current luxurious surroundings in the company of an exquisitely beautiful redhead, it felt odd to realize that this world was just as real as the other. Even more so now that he was fully living in it. Mothers did abandon their children, although not physically. Fathers were felons and siblings were trouble; whether they were related by blood or by a ridiculously caring foster family.

These strains of thought weren't the product of an ungrateful sentiment, but rather awe at the luck he had previously taken advantage of. It was merely an observation that should have occurred to him months ago, but had only hit him when he had made that brief return to the place he had once termed the "real" world and home. It was very much like that saying: "You never know what you have until it's gone". Now that brought something else to mind. Sure, he was back where he now belonged and he had acquired the attraction of a dashing young woman who was willing to take in his flaws and accept his past. However, the hauntingly beautiful features which loomed amongst the cogs and bolts of his brain didn't belong to this lovely individual sleeping so peacefully beside him.

Marissa Cooper. The name usually sent him to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. It existed in his thoughts like the flutter of an eyelash; occasionally you know you're blinking, but the action is involuntary. Alongside the name, her face always showed up on the back of his eyelids oftentimes when he was just about to drift into sleep. It had to stop. He couldn't afford to dwell on the past; it just wasn't healthy, not to mention the slight sting it sent through his heart.

Wrapping his arms ever tighter around Lindsay's slumbering form, Ryan Atwood blinked into the darkness, hoping desperately for the light of morning to bring a solution for his inner plight. Unfortunately, he understood that if it hadn't occurred to him yet, then it probably never would.

If only he didn't feel as if it were his obligation to save them…


	2. Good Morning, Newport!

_Chapter One_

Mornings in the Cohen household were often both unpredictable and entertaining. While the bright light of day did hurt his poor eyes as it streamed so generously through the larger than life windows littered throughout the house, Seth felt a particular sense of excitement as he padded towards the kitchen. Ah, yes, the kitchen, the ground zero of every Cohen family event which always seemed to have a greater effect on the rest of the day. To put it simply, whatever happened in the kitchen that morning would most probably follow him to school and onward. Except that the curly haired, lanky young man had it in mind to forgo the melodrama of the daybreak and escape to school without divulging any of his scandalous and, of course, stealthy plans.

"Ryan! Just the strapping young person I've been waiting to see, and how are you this fine and glorious morning?" Seth inquired, grinning so widely that Ryan's signature expression of 'what the hell' became even more over-exaggerated. Bobbing his head up and down, the brown haired lad pursed his lips and pressed his palms against the cool granite of the island. "Yes, I know, this morning seems much like any other, but that, my friend, is where you're wrong," he informed pointedly, watching as Ryan merely raised his eyebrows before approaching the fridge to get himself some orange juice, chewing lazily on a piece of bagel. Seth began nibbling on his bottom lip and tapping his foot, all the while drumming his fingers on the island's counter top. Ryan, seemingly oblivious to his best friend's torture, pushed past the twitchy beanpole that was Seth and reached for a glass. The kitchen grew oddly silent as the boy from Chino continued with his morning ritual of pouring the orange juice into the glass, and downing half of it before taking another bite of bagel. Finally, and only because it was inevitable, Seth gave a great sigh.

"Okay, fine, I'll give in. I just couldn't take that pained look on your face any more. I know, I know, I really should keep this to myself, but I guess I'm just too good for my own… Well, good," the Cohen boy said, sounding as though he seriously had been trying to keep it all on the down low and stealth-like. Ryan, however, giving Seth an expectant look, knew otherwise. Pausing with the quarter-filled glass of orange juice just inches from his lips, Ryan waited for Seth's river of thought to tumble unceremoniously out through his lips. It was something he was rather used to by this point. Grinning widely once more and looking quite a bit less anxious, Seth rubbed his hands together and launched into his more than brilliant plan.

"Right, so I was thinking that I hadn't really seen my lady friend in a while, you know, after the whole stealing my grandfather's car thing. Calling hasn't really been working for me, you know how I like to talk with my hands and everything, the telephone just doesn't do my physical illustrations justice, so I figured that maybe… Maybe I could sweep her off her feet at the Your Mom concert tonight and then swing her back here to my swinging bachelor pad for a little alone time, you know, kind of like a you and Lindsay thing. Speaking of which, where is the aunt? Is she hiding in your bag?"

"No. She left earlier this morning," Ryan replied with a faint sigh.

"Left? Why? Is our breakfast spread not varied enough for her? Hm? Am I not adorable enough in the morning to suit her tastes?" Seth asked, the faint shadow of a smirk resting behind his grin.

"You don't think it would be kind of weird if your Mom came down for breakfast and found her sister digging into her bagels unannounced?" Ryan inquired, giving Seth a skeptical look. Seth's grin disappeared, his lips forming an 'O' as he silently uttered the word of the same sound. With a nod, he raised an index finger and shook it in Ryan's direction.

"Good point, good point, but hey, I just got a great idea. For my plan tonight, how about we trade our swinging bachelor pads, I mean, not saying my place upstairs isn't swinging, but I figure Alex would probably find the pool house to be a lot swingier because it's just so… outdoorsy, she seems like she's an outdoorsy kind of girl, what do you say?" Seth asked, looking eager. Ryan turned away from the fridge, which he had approached once again to return the orange juice to its original location, and gave Seth a hard look. "Okay, fine, but come on, it's only for one night. I'll give you until the concert tonight to reconsider-"

"Whatever you're planning for tonight Seth, you should postpone it," Sandy informed, cutting in as he strolled into the kitchen while straightening the dimple out in his tie. Seth's mouth dropped open as he shot a look at Ryan who just shrugged. Ryan, not being the biggest fan of the live music selection at The Bait Shop, was perhaps a little bit relieved that there was something else going on. Then again, he wondered if he shouldn't be a little bit worried, especially considering he had no idea what Sandy was going to occupy their time with that evening.

"Postpone? As in, reschedule at a later date? Look, Dad, you don't seem to understand the concept of a concert. A band comes in, they play for one night, and then they leave. To postpone would be to… to… to go to the next stop on their tour for a show, which, after Tijuana, you'd probably never even consider letting me-"

"You're absolutely right, Seth, never in a million years would your mother and I let you, but you may find your alternate plans to be interesting," Sandy interrupted once more, a sly kind of smile starting to tug at his lips.

"Father, what's that suspicious look in your beady little eyes? What's up your sleeve this time, leftover cream cheese from yesterday morning? Didn't Mom warn you about washing your hands after you roll up your sleeves to eat?" Seth joked, wrapping an arm around his Dad's shoulders while shaking his head. Ryan gave a chuckle and leaned forward on the island. Seth and his Dad were always a great source of entertainment.

"Very funny Seth," Sandy muttered, ruffling his son's curls.

"So I see you told our boys what's going on tonight," Kirsten assumed as she stepped into the kitchen, walking directly over to the coffee machine and getting herself a mug. Sandy ducked out from under Seth's arm and made his way over to his wife, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I was just about to inform them that we're hosting a welcome party for our new neighbours," Sandy concluded finally, turning to lean on the sink so that he could savour the boys' reactions.

"Neighbours? Someone already bought the Coopers' old place?" Ryan asked, looking surprised. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't seem to picture anyone else living in that house, other than Marissa of course. A prickling sensation started on the back of his neck at the thought of her and he reached up, trying to rub it away.

"Well aren't we the Brady neighbours. How long have they been there? I never noticed a moving truck, unless they're secret service or something. Couldn't we, oh I don't know, postpone their welcome until they've been here a week and have already decide they hate it and wish they never moved here in the first place?" Seth asked pointedly, shooting a 'take that' look at his father. Sandy frowned, his thick eyebrows tilting inward towards each other as he regarded his son.

"Now Seth, we have to accept these people into the community just like anyone else would have done for us. Who knows, maybe they have kids around the same age as you. You can make a new friend, enlarge your posse," Kirsten stated, sounding almost too hopeful as she sipped at her coffee. Seth rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"Mom, never say posse. Never say it, never ever again," Seth groaned turning towards the kitchen door as if to leave. "Let's get out of here Ryan before she tries to broaden her vocabulary again." Ryan shot Kirsten an apologetic look.

"We'll wait in the car," he said quickly, grabbing his bag as he passed Seth and walked out of the kitchen.

"Wait, Seth, what was the name of this band you were going to see tonight anyway?" Sandy called out, just curious. He was always trying to understand his son's taste in music.

"Your Mom!" Seth yelled back as he and Ryan crossed through the sitting room. Sandy gave a shrug and turned back to his lovely wife. "I'll never understand it."


	3. Absolutly Frustrating

_Chapter Two_

"Marissa, honey, you're going to be late for school!" The devil in Gucci called from downstairs. Dark blonde locks fastened in a sophisticated, sideways, low pony-tail shone like fresh honey in the light of day, loose strands enveloping a face that always seemed mask-like. She stared at herself in the mirror; this sixteen year old girl trying to understand how she was supposed to function properly in a world that was forcing her to be a woman. The pair of eyes which stared out at her held in them something that she felt shouldn't be looked at for too long, except she had trouble turning away. This pained, forlorn expression staring back at her chilled her skin and sent her hand diving into her purse, pulling out the thin flask of Absolut she kept there. Taking a swallow or two of the clear, alcoholic liquid she tried to calm herself. There was still an entire day to deal with. The sound of footsteps in the hall made her shove the flask back into her purse.

"Marissa, I've been calling you for five minutes, what are you doing?" Julie Cooper inquired of her daughter, standing in the doorway, elbows jutting outward due to the way her hands rested on her hips. The teenage girl at the vanity continued to stare at her reflection, reaching for her cake of blush. A placid look overcame her features, the kind that closed her soul's windows to the world. There was a different feeling replacing the fear and loneliness of moments ago. Brushing the pale pink colour onto her cheeks, the girl could feel the bubbles in her blood as it began to boil. "Marissa?"

"Look, Mom, just because I don't answer you doesn't mean I'm deaf, ok?" Marissa snapped suddenly, the anger surfacing as she tossed down the cake and grabbed her purse. She reached for the cream coloured Dior fedora that rested on a hook attached to the vanity's mirror and whirled to face the demon that gave birth to her. This fake redhead who wore too much make-up and called herself powerful was the epitome of everything the teen despised. She could care less about Julie Cooper's feelings. Oh, wait, scratch that. The whore had no feelings. "What? I'm leaving," she added, her voice clearly betraying all the fury which coursed through her veins.

"I just want to remind you about the Welcome party at the Cohen's tonight. Please try not to make a scene like your father's farewell. The last thing we need is for these newcomers to feel uncomfortable," Julie stated calmly, although her daughter could feel the sense of caution which had latched itself to her mother's tone. Marissa paused beside her mother in the doorway, staring the woman down with a look that suddenly displayed all the hate she felt. They rarely spoke anymore, except when one of them wanted something of the other. Marissa ordinarily demanded for cash and Julie usually informed about an event. It was a dangerous thing to mention Marissa's drunken tantrum which had taken place at Jimmy's farewell party. Somehow the fact that Julie had decided to walk the thin ice gave Marissa a sense of triumph over her mother. She was in control at the moment.

"Whatever. If Dj can make it, we'll be there," Marissa informed finally, removing her heated gaze from the face which fuelled her rage. She placed the fedora onto her head and moved past her mother, heading towards the stairs.

Julie turned and watched her daughter descend to the main level of their monstrous home. Realizing that she had been holding her breath, she let go a lengthy sigh, leaning against the door frame. Jimmy had abandoned her with unstable offspring. It just wasn't fair. He had obtained freedom of fatherly duties by cavorting down to Maui while she was stuck with an alcoholic for a daughter. Your child wasn't supposed to loathe your being; they were supposed to confide in you, look up to you. Marissa did none of those things. What Marissa did was purposely humiliate her mother with any tactic she could come up with. Julie was constantly searching for ways to help her daughter; to fix her up and return her to a more pleasant state. Mrs. Cooper-Nichol was not an individual who gave up easily.

Harbour School was bustling as usual on a bright and sunny Tuesday morning. The weather had decided to take a turn for the best at the start of the week which sent the meteorologists into a corner to regroup and reassess their weekly forecast. It was clear that such outrageously warm weather was a complete fluke for January, but the students who lounged around the campus had collectively chosen to take advantage of the abnormally scalding temperatures. With five minutes left before classes began, the masses had cleared the halls in an attempt to either cool themselves off in the lounge with some ice coffee, or soak in as much heat as possible before being shut in a stifling classroom. It felt just like summer break, except for the tiny fact that they were all still in school.

"I know this is California, but now I'm regretting wearing my Miss Sixty's today, whew, did someone order a scorcher?" Summer wondered aloud as she strolled alongside a more pensive than normal Marissa. The brunette brushed a few strands of her lengthy hair out of her face and gave a faint sigh, her gaze drifting over her aimlessly wandering schoolmates. "Ok, Coop, what's wrong with you? This surprise El Niño isn't the only thing being weird today," she added matter-of-factly, pausing to lean against a railing. She regarded Marissa for a long moment, waiting for her friend to snap out of her daydream and snap back into reality.

"Oh, sorry Summer, I'm just a little pissed at my mom this morning," Marissa replied, looking sincerely apologetic as she fixed the fedora on her head, leaning back beside her best friend.

"A little? Uhuh, sure, I don't think you're capable of being just a little pissed at her, Coop. What did she do? Put a lock on the liquor cabinet?" Marissa gave the other girl a hurt look and then shook her head slowly.

"Real funny, Sum. Actually, it's not so much my mom today, it's really that party tonight that the Cohen's are hosting, you know what it's for right? Someone really did buy my old house, someone else is moving in there," Marissa said, turning to face the school grounds as she gripped the railing tightly. She had loved that house, more so because it held mostly decent memories. Mostly ones which included her father before all of Newport discovered he was drilling holes in their bank accounts. His motives were honourable though, which was the underlying reason why Marissa couldn't stand her mother. Julie had blamed her husband for his grave error, but in truth it was all her fault. It was Julie, Caitlin and Marissa's fault, really, and the tall sixteen year old always felt numb when she thought about it. He had always been her anchor.

"Coop, it's a good thing that someone bought your old house. I mean, isn't that how your dad escaped going to jail?" Summer asked, furrowing her brow and looking generally confused. She thought this had all been resolved the previous year. Besides, Coop's dad was currently lounging on a huge yacht in Maui; clearly he wasn't really bothered by a bunch of random people moving into his old place.

"I know, but I just assumed that he sold the house to, like, the government or something, not an actual family," Marissa confessed with a slight shrug. The truth of the matter was that she was actually afraid to meet the new family. She was afraid that she would see an element of her old life there somewhere which might just drive her further over the edge. Summer gave a small pout and wrapped her arms around her best friend in a warm hug.

"Cheer up Coop; at least it's a party. There'll be so many people there that you can meet these home wreckers and then get lost, no worries," the shorter girl stated with a smile. Marissa's lips might have turned upward slightly, but there was still a bitter feeling in the pit of her stomach which didn't seem to have any intention of subsiding. She wanted to trust Summer's judgement and as the bell rang for class, Marissa continued trying to convince herself that it was probably all for the best.


	4. Tee and Comics

_Chapter Three_

The sudden ring of the doorbell echoed through the empty home as Sandy was jerked out of his deep state of concentration. He had been going over some lengthy case files with the intention of visiting the PD's office to check on something. What he hadn't expected was a visitor. Especially at such an odd time in the morning. Thus the dark haired man came to the conclusion that it was probably a package or perhaps Kirsten had sent the caterers over early to set up for that evening. Either way, the door had to be answered and so Mr. Cohen made his way from the living room, through the sitting room and into the entrance way. Unfortunately, none of his assumptions could have prepared him for who now stood so prominently on his doorstep.

"Sandford, excellent, I hope you haven't misplaced your clubs, tee time is in half an hour," informed Caleb as he brushed past his son-in-law, heading towards the kitchen. Sandy, looking both shocked and a little bit appalled, shut the door slowly with a bewildered shake of his head and followed the shady real estate tycoon into the kitchen.

"If I'm not mistaken Caleb, tea time isn't until four and since when is Poker acceptable with biscuits and cream?" Inquired the younger of the two as he leaned against the doorframe, watching his father-in-law fumble through the newspaper in search of the business section. The balding Caleb Nichol narrowed his eyes a fraction as he regarded an article, seeming to have either not heard his son-in-law's comment, or had chosen to ignore it.

"Biscuits and cream?" The words were formed more out of afterthought and with the faint tone of perplexity inching into his voice, it was clear to Sandy that the older man had not caught on to the joke. Not in the least. A grim kind of smirk took over the dark haired man's lips as he watched Caleb fold up the newspaper and toss it onto the island. "Golf, Sanford. Assuming you haven't forgotten what that might be, I was hoping we could play at least nine holes this morning, unless you actually have some semblance of work to do," concluded the older man as he regarded his jew of a son-in-law. Of course Caleb had decided to accept Sandy as a trustworthy aid in light of the month's previous occurrences. Although he still would not give the man his blessing, the lawyer had achieved in gaining Cal's tolerance. Their relationship was based on favours and traversing thin, perilous ice flows, but with Kirsten as the bridge tying them together it was almost nice to admit that for once they were sort of getting along. Sort of being the key factor of their newfound relationship, for on Sandy's side of things, there were very mixed feelings.

"Golf, sure, I would love to oblige you, unfortunately as an attorney of the law I have a few offenders lined up to defend today, Caleb. I trust you understand the importance of my presence in their company?" Sandy stated pointedly, raising his eyebrows slightly in his father-in-law's direction. The older man regarded Sandy with a hard look, almost as if he were attempting to look right through him. Caleb Nichol had that effect on a lot of people. Despite his bad choices he was still one frightening man. Too bad Sandy wasn't one of those fearful types.

"Come on Sandy, a capable attorney can very well sacrifice a few hours for leisure before winning in the courtroom, I know plenty of others who do," Caleb intoned pointedly. By this point, as Sandy had come to realize, his father-in-law was no longer really asking for a game of golf, but stating that tee-time was in half an hour and Sandy would be joining him. Unfortunately for the dark haired man; whether he wanted to or not. With a sigh Sandy ran a hand through his hair and gave a feeble nod. He only hoped he was doing his wife a favour by keeping her father out of the office and out of even more trouble.

On the other side of things, Caleb was preparing himself; he was about to drop a rather large bomb. He hoped he'd at least get a birdie out of it.

"It must be something in the water."

"What are you talking about Seth?" Ryan asked, sounding a little distracted as he fumbled with the books in his locker. The tall, jewish boy leaned against the wall of lockers beside his friend's, shaking his head and briefly staring down a short girl in grey sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a baseball cap from some weird team. The girl shot back an odd look as she hurried by, apparently late for class.

"The ninth graders seem to be getting tinier and tinier, they look like they should still be in middle school, I'm telling you… Something in the water, but onto bigger and better things, Ryan! Today we, of the comic book club, will be making comic book club history!" Seth exclaimed, looking both gleeful and a little sly. The blonde boy didn't appear as though he shared much of his friend's glee. He looked quite a bit sceptical. "Now listen, I know you're not much for the whole talking thing, but this is truly an event to be present for. I swear it's almost like bringing Comicon home, but without the scantily clad women. They weren't quite available," Seth added, speaking the last bit in hushed tones. Ryan raised a quizzical brow.

"You're… Talking about comic books over the lunch period?" Ryan guessed, not quite getting at what his dark haired friend was trying to express.

"Yes and no, Ryan, yes and no. I'm talking about an open discussion forum. We, of the comic book club, have decided to open the floor to others who may have their two cents on the subject of Superman or the Green Lantern. Some people just need some poking and prodding to come forth into the light. So? What do you think of that? Huh? Huh?" Seth concluded for the moment with a suggestive nod and nudge of the elbow. Closing his locker door with a loud bang and refitting the lock, Ryan Atwood wondered for the millionth time how he was still somewhat sane with a friend like Seth Cohen. Not saying that he wasn't a good friend, on the contrary. The two of them had that kind of unspeakable bond forged between real siblings or epic allies. Or something like that anyway. There were just some Sethisms that were only barely tolerable. For instance how the Cohen boy liked to talk _at_ people as opposed _to_ them. It went along with his being self-obsessed and it made Seth, well, Seth. Ryan gave his friend a slight smile and a faint chuckle.

"I think I see someone who might appreciate your big plans more than—"

"Zach! My ever so humble partner in crime, I was just recounting the details of our brilliance to our accomplice over here," Seth cut in quickly, greeting the other young man with a high five that turned into something of a secret handshake the two had created earlier that morning. The water polo player turned comic book geek grinned widely as he offered a nod towards Ryan in form of greeting.

"I made sure we'd get extra tables for this afternoon, I think we might have a nice turn out," intoned Zach, sounding nearly as excited as the other brown haired teen. Ryan glanced between the two beaming boys; eyebrows raised in what might have been disbelief, but was merely an expression of exasperation. They were utterly and entirely hopeless in his opinion and he could only hope to get extra work in World History so that he'd be too busy to attend their little 'session'. He was also hoping to run into Lindsay that afternoon; he hadn't actually seen her since she left earlier that morning.

"I'll try and stop by," murmured the boy from Chino, a rueful sort of smile playing on his lips. Seth beamed and gave his best friend a good pat on the back, the sound of the bell echoing through the halls.

"Fair enough, fair enough. Well, Zach, shall we head over and set up our forum of wonderful enlightenment?" Inquired Seth as he and the water polo, comic book fan started off in the opposite direction of Mr. Atwood's World History class. Ryan gave a slight smile and shook his head, watching the two meander off before leaving his locker and making his own way to class.


End file.
